


maybe everything else was just practice

by abvj



Category: Younger (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abvj/pseuds/abvj
Summary: She tries not to think about how this thing between them has always felt somewhat inevitable.Set immediately post 5x07. Wherein makeouts happen. And feelings.





	maybe everything else was just practice

Somewhere near the door, his snow-soaked shoes stand tall next to hers. 

Liza throws a glance over her shoulder, catches his eye as she slides her coat off and places it over the arm of her favorite chair to join his. 

It feels familiar to her even though it has no reason to. 

 

 

 

Downstairs, Charles had kissed her with such certainty, with such promise that it took the breath right out of her. Made her dizzy with lust and want and such a visceral need that when he murmured _can I come upstairs_ somewhere near her ear, Liza could only respond with a strangled noise tangled around her _god, yes_ just before she dragged his mouth back to hers. 

Now, upstairs, they move in circles around each other, all nervous energy and indecision. 

She does not know why but she offers coffee even though she has no interest in it, and Charles obliges just to be polite. 

They keep their distance, always just within reach, and it is fruitless, probably, but she still busies herself with the coffee maker and mugs just to give her hands something to do other than reaching for him. 

Maggie is out with friends. Caitlin with David. Charles asks her about this quietly, subtly, his try at coy, but Liza's mind is already spiraling ten steps ahead to his weight pressing against her, the subtle arching of his backs, his mouth between her legs - 

"Liza?" 

Her eyes snap to his. His mouth twists and she feels caught. Her laugh is reflexive, nervous, and reaches to cover her mouth in an effort to hide the sound. 

"Hi," she says because she honestly cannot think of anything intelligible to say. 

"Hi," he replies, laughing a little too. The sound presses into her skin and lingers there for a moment. It is a rare thing to be privy to, his laugh, and she takes a second to revel in it. 

There is another awkward beat and suddenly they are just staring at each other again, nervous with wide grins, and it is so stupid, really, because it isn't as if they haven't been here before. 

But it is different now and Liza thinks they both feel it. Beside her, the coffee maker whirs to life with a hiss and for a brief moment, her mind wanders back to the string of almost moments - the Hamptons, his office, Pound Ridge - and knows this is better. Knows this is real. The truth is finally, unequivocally laid out between them, and it is both a relief and unbelievably frightening. 

There is a line that has been drawn and erased and redrawn so many times over the past year. It stands between them now, messy and faint, and Liza knows once they cross it they can never go back. 

The look on Charles's face says he knows it too. 

 

 

 

He reaches for her first - fingers at her elbow, then her wrist, thumb tracing the delicate area where her bones collide. 

Liza stares at where their hands are joined, then at his face. Charles is watching her carefully, a small smile playing across his mouth, and when he steps closer, bridging the distance, she finds herself holding her breath. 

"I want to kiss you again." 

" _Please._ " 

His mouth is on hers in an instant. It is warm, inviting, _desperate._

It startles her, the depth of the kiss, and for a moment she can do nothing but stand there. 

Then something in her chest tightens and explodes and she feels overwhelmed with want for him. Liza tangles her hands in the fabric of his shirt, pulling and tugging until he is flush against her. Her mouth opens wide under his, her tongue against the roof his mouth, and then, just a moment later, his bottom lip is between her teeth. She bites down, just slightly, and Charles moans something low and guttural, just for her. She almost misses it because her heart is beating so loudly in her head. It is all she can hear, really, until his palms move from her hips to the hem of her dress, pushing, and pushing, and pushing until his hand is between her legs, fingers dancing along her inner thigh, the soft line of her underwear, just before slipping under the cotton. 

And then everything escalates, the noise in her head transitioning to sheer white noise. 

Suddenly Liza cannot breathe, and she has to pull away, gasping a little as she tilts her head back to catch her breath. His mouth moves to the column of her throat, her jawline, that spot just below her ear that he must remember from the last time they did this. She shudders. His hand is still between her thighs -- motionless, _teasing_ , and she can feel his grin against her neck as she whimpers a little when he withdrawals contact, leaving the warmth between her legs to simply rest near her hip. It's painful, the loss of contact, and Liza cannot stand it, not even for a second. Feels overwhelmed with frantic energy, with the coil of arousal spreading deep in her belly, and she murmurs his name in the back of her throat, uses her toes as leverage to push herself up onto the edge of the counter. 

It is meant to be sexy, seductive even, but instead, she ends up knocking over one of the coffee mugs she had carefully set to the side with the hand she meant to brace herself with. The sound of it falling and shattering against the floor causes of them both to still completely. 

Charles laughs first, burying the sound somewhere near her shoulder. She joins him a beat later. 

"I missed you," he breathes then and when he looks her in the eye after it is with a quiet sort of awe, almost disbelief. His mouth turns near the corners. "I know it's ridiculous. I saw you every day. I was so angry with you and yet…" He trails off. Shakes his head. He is embarrassed, she thinks, which is ridiculous, but so typically Charles. 

"No, _no._ " Liza reaches for him, her palm gently cupping his face. "I missed you too. Everyday. I wanted for this so much, Charles. You -" she stops. Shakes her head gently. Her cheeks are turning red. "You have no idea." 

"I think I do," he says quietly and all they can do is stare at each other, the moment quiet and full. 

 

 

 

Liza thinks, sometimes, that maybe she missed him before she ever even had him. 

It is a weird sort of revelation because it isn't as though she has gone through her life unhappy in terms of love. She and David weren't always the catastrophe they ended up as and she loved Josh in this fierce, bold type of way she never thought she was capable of. David was safe and Josh anything but. They both changed the very core of her in different ways, some for better and some for worse. But when she takes the time to be honest with herself she knows there has always been this void, this place deep inside her that she could never quite identify, a place that was only ever filled with Caitlin before. 

Now, with Charles looking at her with such vulnerability and affection, she feels both safe and emboldened. And, also, a bit overwhelmed with how complete she feels in this moment with him. 

He turns his head just an inch to the side. Presses a kiss to the skin of her palm. 

Her throat burns. She doesn't allow herself to look away. 

 

 

 

It is by sheer dumb luck they even make it to the bed. 

The realize the whole sex on the counter thing isn't going to work - he is too tall and the angle is all wrong, so he does this really insanely sexy thing where he carries her to her room. Except Liza ruins it by murmuring directions somewhere near the corner of his mouth that he misinterprets twice because, he tells her, _you are being very distracting_. They make it to her bed a tangled mess of limbs and laughter as they fall into place. 

It is the hardest she has laughed in years. 

When he kisses her again it is softer, gentler than anything they have ever shared before and it throws her off balance a little. Her hands are unsteady as she works the buttons of his shirt and slides a thigh on either side of his. She tries not to think about how she has thought about this more than is probably healthy. 

Tries not think about how this thing between them has always felt somewhat inevitable. 

His hands slide along the muscles of her thighs, push her dress up and over her head. She watches his face for a moment after, breathes in the way his mouth kind of falls open as he traces the lines and curves of her. She feels embarrassed in her cotton underwear and worn bra, but his hands are deft, his exploration of her soft and reverent. He traces patterns into her skin, follows the dips and curves of her slowly as if he is making a memory of her. 

Every move he makes feels full of certainty and purpose. It leaves her afire and when he guides her mouth to his with just a touch to her jaw her heart feels so full and tight in her chest that it takes the breath right out of her. 

_I love you_ she thinks, and feels, and just sort of says, the words bursting out of her unbidden. 

There is no room for pretense, awkwardness, or half-truths between them. Not anymore. 

Charles pulls back to look at her, suddenly very serious. "Yeah?" 

" _Yes._ " 

The force of his kiss echoes deep in her bones. 

And this, Liza remembers all too well: Charles is methodical, all conscious thought and careful decisions until he isn't. 

Until she moans his name around a soft, desperate _please_ , and suddenly he is everywhere. Removing clothing, pushing and pulling against her with fingers tangling in her hair, tracing the long angle of her neck, pressing into the subtle jut of bone at her hips and finally, _finally_ between her legs because he simply cannot get enough her. Charles does not rush, but he does move with a swift urgency and just enough precision to start a slow unraveling inside of her. He shifts them until the mattress is at her back and the weight of him settles between her thighs, the burden of him a welcomed addition. His mouth presses first against her shoulder, then to each of her breasts, and then lower and lower still until his grin spreads against her inner thigh. 

There is a hiss of a sigh, his name falling from her mouth tangled around a graceless _fuck_ and Charles just laughs, low and almost smug, before pressing his tongue against her. 

She comes soon after, embarrassingly fast and almost too loud, with her hands tangled in his hair, and his eyes on hers the entire time. 

 

 

 

Hours later there is half-eaten pizza between them on her messy bed. They sit cross-legged facing each other, mostly undressed, trading stories of yesteryear. Outside, the snow continues on as he tells her about tall, lanky, Gumby-looking fifteen-year-old Charles. She wishes she knew him then. 

Liza must be staring and it must make him just on the verge of uncomfortable because he stops mid-story, mouth pressing into a frown. 

"What?" 

Liza shakes her head. Laughs softly. "Nothing. Nothing, I just…" She stops, considers, feels her mouth blossom into a grin. "I am just really glad we didn't miss out on this," she says softly. "I'm just really glad that we made it here." 

His fingers leave grease stains somewhere near her chin when he leans forward to kiss her.


End file.
